


Bullying

by torestoreamends



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Bullying, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Hogwarts First Year, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 22:25:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9462938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torestoreamends/pseuds/torestoreamends
Summary: Scorpius has always known people don’t much like his family, and he’s always known the rumours about him. What he hasn’t anticipated are the lengths his fellow Hogwarts students will go to to try and chase him from the school.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is PlatinaSi's fault, because she showed me a lovely little bit of art of Albus helping Scorpius up after he’d been bullied by someone, so then I had to write it. I’m sorry for besmirching the good name of Creevey… 
> 
> Thanks to Abradystrix for betaing!

"Hey, Mouldy." 

Scorpius ducks his head and tightens his grip on his bag strap. The corridor is full of people, and he hopes that if he makes himself small enough, he might lose whoever is yelling at him. 

He doesn’t.

Someone shoves him from behind and he stumbles forward into the back of a fourth year Ravenclaw girl. She looks over her shoulder and glares at him. 

"Sorry," he mutters. "I didn't mean to-" He tries to dodge round her and escape down a hidden passage behind a tapestry, but he doesn't get far before someone grabs the back of his robes.

"Not so fast,  _Scorp._ " His tormentor, a Hufflepuff sixth year who he thinks might be called Jack, spits the name as he grabs Scorpius's shoulders and spins him round. 

Scorpius backs into the wall and bows his head. "I need to be fast," he says. "I'm going to be late for Transfiguration, so if you could just let me..." He tries to slide away, but Jack shoves him into the stonework. 

"You're not going anywhere." 

"Okay," Scorpius says, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm staying here then."

The corridor begins to clear as the students disappear into their classrooms. He looks around wildly for any potential allies, but they've all gone. It's just him and Jack now, and Scorpius feels tiny in comparison. 

"Where's your little Potter pal?" Jack asks, looking up and down the corridor. 

"Probably in the Transfiguration class I'm supposed to be at," Scorpius says. He doesn't actually know where Albus is. They'd split up near the end of lunch because Albus had forgotten one of his books and needed to run back to the dormitory to get it. 

"Good," Jack says. "He should stay well away from pieces of Death Eater scum like you. You've already started infecting him, haven't you? Getting him put in Slytherin." He slams Scorpius's shoulder into the wall, and Scorpius whimpers, cowering away. 

"He- he's in Slytherin because that's where he belongs," Scorpius says, clutching his shoulder. "And I don't care what house he's in. Even if he was sorted somewhere else I'd still be friends with him." 

"Yeah right," Jack jeers. "I know how your family works. Siding with whoever can get you the most money and power, and right now that's the Potters. You're nasty, traitorous, power-hungry scum, Malfoy. Or should I call you Voldemort, cause that's what you are, isn't it? Evil snake." He sinks his fist into Scorpius's stomach, and Scorpius doubles over, all the wind knocked out of him. 

His bag drops from his shoulder, but he's in too much pain to pick it up. Pain and shock. He's known people hate him, he's known that ever since he was old enough to understand the rumours, but this... He's never realised they hate him enough to hurt him. 

"You shouldn't be here," Jack says, leaning down to his level and murmuring in his ear. "You should be thrown out. They should never have let you come. Voldemort's child in our school. After everything our parents did to fight him. It's an insult. It's disgusting. Death Eater scum like you should all be locked away. But if the Ministry and the teachers can't see sense then it's down to the rest of us to make you leave." 

Jack picks Scorpius's bag up off the floor and looks through it. He finds an ink pot and picks it out, swirling the black ink round and round in a whirlpool. "You know, I never knew my uncle," he says. "He died. In the Battle of Hogwarts. He died fighting to keep filth like you out of this place. And I don't think it'd be right not to honour his memory by chasing the last of you out. So this is for him." He grins and drops the ink pot. It smashes on the floor, and Scorpius flinches as ink splashes everywhere. 

"I'm not-" Scorpius says, still breathless and winded. "I'm not a Death Eater. And my parents aren't-" 

Jack shoves him, so he sprawls onto the floor and lands in the puddle of spilled ink. It stains his shirt black, and seeps into his tie. 

"Your parents and grandparents were the worst of their kind."

"Not my mum," Scorpius says, scrambling up to his knees and trying in vain to brush the ink off. "My mum fought in the battle just like your uncle."

Jack snorts. "Yeah but then she more than made up for that by fucking Voldemort and having you, didn't she?" 

"She didn't!" Scorpius says, voice rising with anger. He struggles to get to his feet, wanting to attack Jack, to defend his mum, but his stomach aches and he collapses back onto his knees. "She-she didn't do anything with Voldemort. She's a good person. She works with Muggles. She  _helps_ people. She-" He yelps as Jack bends down and punches him square in the face. He feels his nose break, and tastes metallic blood in his mouth. For a moment he sees stars, and he covers his nose with his hands. 

"Your mother is scum just like the rest of your family, Mouldy. Now shut up and let me do this." He starts digging through Scorpius's bag, taking the books out and examining them. "Why are you so boring, Mouldy? Not a diary or anything. Just school books. School books and...  _Hogwarts: A History_. Who reads this rubbish?" He holds Scorpius's beloved old, annotated copy of  _Hogwarts: A History_  by the cover, so it flaps open. "Well, you don't need it, do you? I think I'll just-" he seizes hold of the inner pages and rips them out, letting them scatter to the floor.

"No," Scorpius gasps, staring in horror as his favourite book floats in tattered pieces on the puddles of ink. "No, y-you can't." 

"Oh yeah?" Jack tears the pages out of  _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1_ next, then  _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi._

"Please," Scorpius whimpers, scrabbling at the falling pages, trying to catch them before they land in the ink. He can feel tears starting to sting his eyes. "Please don't."

The pages of  _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ scatter across the ink-stained stonework, and Scorpius buries his face in his hands, sniffling. 

"Are you crying over books?" Jack laughs, delighted. "Nerdy little snake, aren't you? Now." He bends down and runs his fingers through Scorpius's hair, then yanks his head up. It tears at his scalp, jerks his neck, and his nose twinges with pain. "Get out of this school. You don't deserve these books, or these classes. We don't want you here, sliming up these halls. You don't belong, you're not welcome, and if you don't leave, we'll make you leave. Understood?" 

Scorpius avoids his eyes. He can taste metallic blood and salty tears, and his whole body feels stiff and achy. But he won't leave, whatever anyone threatens. He can't. Hogwarts is supposed to be his home. He's wanted to come here forever, and a broken nose and torn books won't make him pack up and go. 

"Do you understand me?" Jack repeats, louder, spit flying into Scorpius's face. He shakes Scorpius by the hair, and Scorpius yelps with pain. 

"Yes! I-I understand." 

Jack grins and releases him, so he crumples to the ground. "Good. Have a nice train ride home, Mouldy." He straightens up, dumps the remaining contents of Scorpius's bag on the floor, and kicks some of the ink in Scorpius's face as a parting blow. Then he turns his back and walks away, leaving Scorpius entirely alone and broken in the empty hallway. 

There's ink in his hair, he can feel it dribbling down his temple. He wipes his eyes but that smears more ink across his face. It burns his eyes, and he blinks rapidly. More tears spill down his cheeks, and he curls up, cupping his hands over his nose. 

A broken sob shakes his body. The ink is cold where it's seeping into his robes, and he's never felt more unwelcome anywhere in his life. He wants to pretend nothing has happened and just go to his class, but all of a sudden he's certain no one will want him there, and his books are all torn, and his nose is searing with pain. He wants to find a place to hide, maybe the library. There won't be anyone in the library to call him Mouldy and destroy his things. And he'd be surrounded by books. Books don't judge you. They're kind, and wise, and tell you facts. They don't spew stupid rumours that poison your life. 

Gingerly he sits up and starts to try and gather up the sodden pages of his books, but as he does he hears running footsteps in the distance. He freezes, staring down the hall, then curls his body up as tight as he can and tries to make himself invisible. Whoever this is doesn't need to see him. 

The footsteps get closer and closer, but they slow, and Scorpius knows he's been spotted. He's probably about to be kicked to pieces by some Gryffindor or something. He rests his forehead on the floor and closes his eyes tight, waiting for fate to further abuse him. 

The footsteps stop. 

"Scorpius?" 

Albus's voice. Scorpius looks up, certain he's mistaken, but he sees his best friend looking down at him. He sags as relief floods through him, and more tears spill down his face. Now he knows he's safe, now he knows it's okay, his final pieces of strength and resolve shatter, and he starts sobbing into his hands. It makes his nose and stomach throb, but he doesn't care. 

"What happened?" Albus asks, and Scorpius feels hands on his back, rubbing his shoulders, comforting him. 

Scorpius tries to push himself up off the floor, but Albus takes one of his hands. 

"Careful, there's glass." 

Through the haze of tears, Scorpius sees the shattered remains of his ink pot where he had been about to put his hand. "Right," he murmurs. He struggles into a sitting position, arm curled across his stomach, other hand cupping his nose. 

Albus stares at him. "What happened to you? You're covered in blood, you- Did someone attack you?" 

"One of the sixth years," Scorpius says. "A Hufflepuff. Jack- Jack something. I don't know." He crawls forward a few inches and starts sorting through the soggy pages of his books. There must be a spell to get the ink off... It isn't one he knows though. Maybe Flitwick or someone might be able to help...

"Jack..." Albus says. "Not Jack Creevey?"

"I don't know," Scorpius says, picking up a few pages of  _Hogwarts: A History._  The notes he'd written are all blurred and streaky, and the pages begin to disintegrate in his hands. He drops them back onto the ground and buries his face in his hands. "It's ruined. My book, it's... He's destroyed it." His voice cracks, and he crosses his legs and trails his fingers through the ink. 

"Well maybe we can fix it," Albus says. "Maybe there's some charm, or- I think I know how to repair things now. Here." He gathers up some of the bits of paper and starts trying to sort through them, but Scorpius shakes his head. 

"Don't. I can get new ones." 

"But your copy of-"

Scorpius knocks the papers out of Albus's hand and slumps back against the wall. "I don't care. Just leave it." 

Albus stares down at the loose pages. "Why would anyone do this?" 

"Because I'm Voldemort's son," Scorpius says, inspecting his fingernails. The tears have dried up now, leaving him with a deep sense of misery. "And I've ruined Harry Potter's son's life by dragging him into Slytherin with me." 

Albus looks up. "When do we learn how to hex people in Defence Against the Dark Arts?" 

Scorpius snorts, which hurts quite a bit. "You can't duel a sixth year, Albus. That's stupid."

"You're right. I'll just punch him in the face." Albus starts sorting through the rest of Scorpius's things, checking for any ink stains, packing away parchment and quills, and the few remaining books. "He's so slow I could run away before he even realises what's happened." He sets Scorpius's bag aside and shuffles forward, cupping Scorpius's face in both hands and inspecting him. "I think you should go to the hospital wing to get your nose fixed. Your eyes are going black."

"Great." Scorpius rummages in the sleeve of his robes. "Do you have a tissue?"

Albus picks one out of his bag and hands it across. "You should tell someone about this as well. McGonagall, or-" 

Scorpius carefully mops the blood, tears, and ink off his face. "I can't tell the headmistress about this. She wouldn't care." 

"She should," Albus says, picking up both their bags. "He beat you up, Scorpius. He destroyed your stuff." 

"He told me I should leave," Scorpius mumbles. "He said I'm not wanted here. Because of my dad. My real dad. Not just the Voldemort thing, I-" He swallows. "I don't know if it's true." 

Albus stares at him. "What?" He drops both bags onto the floor. "He said- What?" 

Scorpius fiddles with his shoelaces. "People gave their lives for this school. And here I am, a Malfoy, a Voldemort, insulting their memories by being here. Apparently." 

Albus blinks. "But that's ridiculous." 

Scorpius shrugs.

"No," Albus says. "It is ridiculous. I've never heard anything so stupid in my life. And I grew up with James." He leans forward and nudges Scorpius's shoulder. "You deserve to be here as much as anyone. Your mum fought in the battle, didn't she? And I know your dad is complicated, but that shouldn't be held against you." He bows his head and takes a breath. "You're not your dad, Scorpius. Just like I'm not my dad. You're just... you. Whatever our parents did... I really hope it doesn't matter. I don't want it to matter. Not for me, and especially not for you. And if anyone thinks it does matter then they're probably an idiot."

Scorpius opens his mouth to reply but Albus doesn't give him chance.

"Don't argue with me. You belong here. Just like Jack Creevey belongs with a black eye." 

"I wasn't going to argue," Scorpius says, smiling. "I want to be here, and they can do anything they like to me, but I’m not leaving. No… I just thought you should know I'm- I'm really glad you're my friend." 

"I'm glad too," Albus says with a nod, "because 'son of Voldemort' or not, you're a brilliant friend. Now." He gets up, slings both bags over his shoulders, and offers Scorpius a hand up from the floor. "I'm taking you to the hospital wing." 

Scorpius takes his hand and scrambles up. "Shouldn't you go to Transfiguration?" 

Albus shakes his head. "You're not going on your own. What if you get lost? We've never been to the hospital wing before. Anyway, you're more important than any lesson." 

"That's sacrilege," Scorpius says as they set off walking down the corridor, although he feels considerably warmer and happier all of a sudden. He still can't quite straighten up properly when he stands, because his stomach aches every time he tries, but Albus wraps an arm round his waist to help him stand, and Scorpius leans against his side, taking strength from him.

"Once we've got your nose fixed," Albus says, "we can go and explain what happened to McGonagall. Hopefully she'll expel Creevey and we won't even get detention." 

Scorpius thinks Albus might be being a little over-optimistic, but he doesn't say so. He just nods, and lets Albus take him up to the hospital wing, ranting all the way about what should happen to people like Jack. It's reassuring to know, when times are tough and people hate him, that he has at least one friend and ally. And when Albus gets detention two days later for trying to start a fight with Creevey in the Charms corridor before class, Scorpius reckons he might have managed to find the best friend in the entire world. 


End file.
